That's the Way I Loved You
by It'sOkayI'mAnAvenger
Summary: At the beginning of senior year Natasha and Clint are faced with the unthinkable: separation. Song fic: That's the Way I Loved You by Taylor swift High School Au Clintasha DISCLAIMER:I do not own Marvel or Taylor Swift


Authors Note: This story has been revised. I added a few details here and there and tweaked it overall. It's still not perfect; I switch the point of view, I switch tenses sometimes, and the transitions are abrupt. It's a work in progress, but I want to share my progress with you. Enjoy.

Also, this is a one-shot. I do not plan on continuing the story beyond this. I ended it where I felt it should end and I will not add to it. Thank you so much for the support you have giving me! I appreciate it more than you know, but I do not want to force this story to be more than it is.

 **That's the Way I Loved You**

Natasha set her books in her locker with a huff. Calculus had never been her favorite class. It wasn't that it was too difficult for her, it was just that Mr. Cobb had a way of talking the whole class period without actually teaching. Thankfully it was lunch period, though. As she grabbed her locker door to shut it she saw the picture of her and Clint when they were freshmen. She had already waited until the last minute to tell him; she couldn't wait any longer. It wouldn't be fair to him. She made her way through the cafeteria and found Clint at their usual table

"Hey," Natasha said, flopping down into the chair beside him.

"Hey, how was class?" Clint tried to steal a fry off of her plate but she smacked his hand.

"Ow! That hurt!" he said, pulling hand back.

"You'll get over it" she teased. "… I have news."

"The good kind or the bad kind?" he asked turning back to his food, nonchalant.

"Uh," she started nervously, "The bad kind." Clint sat up and turned towards her, realizing the seriousness in her voice.

"What is it?"

 _Just spit it out, Natasha._

"I uh... Uhm."

 _'Clint my, family is moving back to Russia'. . . Was that out loud?_

"What is it, Natasha?" Clint asked. His expression growing more and more concerned.

 _Nope._

"I think we should break up," she blurted suddenly.

 _What! No! Why did I say that?! That's not true! Take it back! Take it back!_

"What?! Why?!" he shouted. People are started to stare and Natasha's eyes were welling up with tears. Her throat was getting tight.

"I mean- I have t-" she choked out.

 _Great! Now I'm crying. This needs to stop._

"I have to go," she finally managed then gets up and runs out of the cafeteria.

"Natasha!" Clint cried out, twisting around to watch her go. He turned back around and shoved his lunch tray away from him, causing his milk to flip over and spill. He sat there with his head in his hands, alone.

Natasha just left school after that. She needed to pack anyways. Clint called her countless times, but she never answered. It seemed better like this. They wouldn't be able handle a long-distance relationship.

 _I don't know what I was thinking, trying to make it work._

Natasha looked at the clock beside her bed and it read 2:04 AM. Her dad still wasn't home yet. He was probably with his girlfriend, _Ashley._ Her mother left years ago. She had gone to bed long ago but couldn't sleep.

Suddenly, there was a loud knocking at the door. Natasha got out of bed and rushed to get the door, thinking her dad had lost his keys again, but when she opened the door her dad wasn't there. Clint was.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, leaving the door just cracked.

"' _What am I doing_ \- 'Tasha, what's going on? Open the door."

"It's late, Clint. Go home." I say, ignoring his question and shutting the door.

"Answer the d n question!" he shouts, pushing the door fully open.

"What the hell?!"

"Talk to me!"

"Clint, this isn't going to working out!"

"Of course, it is! I love you too much to let you give up!"

They fought for almost an hour, screaming. No doubt they woke up the neighbors. Natasha wanted to tell him the truth and she almost did, too. Three times. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. It was too late now; the deed was done and Natasha and her father were leaving tomorrow. It hurt so much, but she had to stand by what she did. Clint eventually left, angry, and Natasha went to bed crying.

 _I never told him that I love him._

After two months, all Natasha did was go to school and ballet rehearsal and she only did that because her grandmother forced her too. And of course, her father had to move right after the beginning of her senior year so Natasha got to be the new girl all over again. And on top of that, her grandmother has been pestering her about one of her co-worker's sons and how "nice" and "handsome" he was. Her family never really liked Clint. He wasn't goodenoughfor their Natasha. In reality he just wasn't _rich_ enough.

Natasha hated Russia. Everybody there stuck up their noses like everyone else was beneath them, even the children. Although, she had made a couple friends at ballet. They weren't much, they just stuck up their noses the least and Natasha thought that she had gone to school with them when they were younger, before she and her family moved to America. Alexandria and Anastasia were two girls that gushed and awwwwed at everything. They drove Natasha so crazy. She constantly wondered why she still hung out with them.

One day Natasha's grandmother stopped her when she got home from school and announced that they would be having visitors for dinner the next day; Ivan Petrovitch and his son Alexei. Or in other words, her grandmother was still trying to set her up. I'd never met Alexei, but I'd passed him in the hall at school. He was every girl's dream guy; blonde, tall, and a jock.

 _He's probably a jerk._

Natasha still missed Clint, every day, but they would have never worked. They were too different. After getting to know Alexei Natasha started to like him. He wasn't as bad as she had thought he would be. They'd gone on a few dates when he asked her to be his girlfriend. Natasha wasn't sure at first, but after thinking about it and not finding anything wrong with him, she agreed. Alexei was nice and Natasha _really_ liked him. As soon as they found out about us, Alexandria and Anastasia went _crazy_. They wanted all the details, but there wasn't much to tell.

They had been dating for eight months when it happened. Alexei had taken her out to some expensive restaurant. It was good.

 _This is good. This is good._

"Natalia?" Alexei asks. Natasha looked up to see him staring at her.

"What! Oh! Yeah, this food is amazing!" she took a bite and pretended to enjoy herself.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to take you home?"

"What? No! This is good." she blew him off and looked down at her food.

"Are you sure?" he asked, concerned.

"Of course, …This is uhm..." she started. "This is perfect." Natasha looked up at him and put on a small smile.

"Alright. If you're sure?"

"Of course," she said. Alexei, pleased with her answer, didn't say anything else. They sat in silence for a few moments, eating.

"Actually," Natasha began. "Alexei, I don't think I can do this."

"What?" he asked, looking back up at her.

"I don't think I can keep going out with you."

"Was it something I did?" he asked.

"No, no! You were perfect, Alexei… It's just that-"

"It's him isn't it?" he interrupted.

"Huh?" she stopped, startled.

"Him. I don't know who, but I can tell. You always seem like you're somewhere else. You still love him, don't you?" Natasha didn't know what to say.

"I do," she said, letting out the first breath she had in over ten months.

"It's okay, Natalia."

The cab pulled up to the curb, she paid the driver and got out. He sped off to find a new customer. It was starting to rain, just sprinkling for now but it was becoming heavier. All around her people, friends, roommates, and lovers were coming in to get warm. She walked quickly up to the dorm building and up the stairs to the second floor where she now knew was where he lived. She found his door (No. 208) and raised her hand to knock. And she froze.

 _Maybe I shouldn't have come. He's probably moved on. It's been almost a year._

"You looking for Barton?" a voice asked behind her, making her jump. She turned to see a young man holding a key most likely to the dorm he's standing in front of. He seemed nice; he was wearing a rain jacket and his hair was slightly wet. Judging from the books he was holding, he had just come from class.

"Uh... yeah," she finally answered.

"He's probably in class right now," the man informed.

"Okay, thanks," Natasha said, somewhat disappointed.

 _This is it. This is the universe telling me that I shouldn't have come. This was a bad idea._

She walked back to the street, so wrapped up in her thoughts to remember that she took a cab that was now long gone. Things started to get blurry as tears filled up her eyes. The rain was pouring by then and she realized she forgot her jacket in the cab.

 _How could I have been so stupid?_

"Natasha?" She stops dead in her tracks. She knows that voice _anywhere_. She turned around and Clint was there, standing in the rain and thoroughly confused.

POV Switch!

He couldn't believe it. There she was, soaked. Her Converses, no doubt soaked all the way through. She wore jeans and a worn t-shirt (hey wasn't that mine?). Her arms were crossed and her hands gripped her upper arms. She wore no jacket. She always forgot her jacket. The thought almost made him smile. He hair had been messily pulled back into a ponytail and loose strands clung to the side of her face. Her mascara was running down her cheeks and he began to think it wasn't entirely from the rain because her eyes were slightly puffy and red.

"Clint?" she said in disbelief, her voice almost catching.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

POV Switch!

"I just- I needed- I came to-" I stop and let out a deep breath.

 _Let's try this again._

"When I was in Russia, my grandmother kept trying to get me to date one of her coworker's sons, the neighbor, strangers, you name it. I didn't want to at first, but eventually. . . I did."

"Tash. . ." he started, turning his head to look away.

"He was nice. He was _really_ nice. He was sensible and incredible and he opened doors for me and told me I looked beautiful. My friends were jealous. He said everything I wanted to hear and it was like I couldn't ask for anything better."

"Natasha, stop. . ." she could tell he didn't want to hear this, but he needed to. She needed to tell him.

"He respected my space. He never made me wait on him and he called exactly when he said he would. My grandmother mother liked him and he talked about business and politics with my dad. He was charming and endearing. I was comfortable. I was _fine_ ," she ranted.

"Natasha, why are you telling me this?", he finally interrupted.

"Because _I hate it,_ " she yelled.

"I hate him. He was _too perfect_. I miss screaming and fighting. I miss cursing your name at two in the morning. I miss breaking down and coming undone. I never knew I could feel _so much_ until I didn't feel _anything_. He couldn't see the smile I was faking. And when it was over my heart didn't break because I didn't _feel_ anything _at all._ "He stared at her, waiting.

"And you..." she began. "You were wild and crazy and just _so frustrating_. And I missed it, Clint. I missed you. I missed being _so_ in love that I act _insane_! It's kind of like a rollercoaster, but that's the way I love you."

The rain stopped. Clint steps forward and pulled her into his arms and she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"He called me 'Natalia'," she whispered. The name felt weird to say.

"You hate being called Natalia," he said.

"I know," she laughed for a moment then she pulled back to look at him.

"Clint?" she started.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"I love you too."


End file.
